


Things You Learn Coming Out of The Woods

by Missy



Category: Into the Woods (2014)
Genre: Becoming a family, Beginnings, F/F, Families of Choice, Family, Future Fic, Romance, Yuletide Madness 2015, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella didn't expect to gain a family when she fled the palace.  But do they need her as much as she needs them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Learn Coming Out of The Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celaenos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celaenos/gifts).



The world outside the woods was quieter than it had ever been. Cinderella stood on the stoop of the bakery, sweeping crumbs out the back door and hearing a bluebird sing. Funny how life could change in the blink of an eye. A few months ago she’d been a princess, and a few months before that a peasant at the beck and call of her mother and stepsisters. Now, she was a co-proprietress. A businesswoman.  


How very bizarre.

The concept was far too scary to be thought of for long. She preferred to stay at the back of the bakery, rolling out cookies or molding tarts, pouring cake batter or whipping icing. The wife was the face and the smile of the business – Cinderella was content to let her shine while she did the harder work.

It was, she decided, a better life than the one she’d had when she was her stepsister’s slave. Here her opinion was respected and valued, what little opinion she dared to speak – and whenever it was too hot or the hours too long Red or Jack would step in to help out, home from a day’s schooling.

The children were her main concern. Never maternal, she was now in charge of three, and all of them were scared in different ways. Red would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, remembering the giant’s footfall – Jack was watchful, close to protective of her and of the baby. The wife had to convince them to relax, to sit back and let her be the grown-up.

Cinderella – well, she felt less like a grown-up than a big sister, and she hadn’t felt that way for a very long time. More than just useful, she was actually wanted about, needed by the sobbing Red and the angry Jack, the always hungry baby and the practical, needy, adventuresome lady baker.

^^^

The seasons switched suddenly, it seemed; one minute the leaves were thick, then they were on the ground. It was easier to see through the woods in the wintertime, when bare gray branches scratched white steamy cloud trails upon the sky. For Cinderella, too, it seemed that the path was surer now. The chores became more routine, the children’s behavior more stable, and the baby – growing, said the wife, to look painfully more like his father each day – could roll over, could sit up, could smile and make a fist and laugh as loudly as a thundercrack.

Cinderella had learned how to make crumbcake, and she’d figured out a way to polish and wax the floor in an hour’s time, and she’d learned there’s a way to heal scrapes and pat heads, to soothe the unsoothable. 

To, perhaps, offer a cup of kindess to her host.

The wife worked twice as hard as she normally did when the children were this way, her voice brittle and care-worn as she tried to convince them that there was nothing in the world that could separate the team of them. She was so commanding that Cinderella nearly believed her. 

The two women talked over tea that evening. “You don’t have to stay,” the wife told her. “You could go anywhere right now and still be treated with honor; most of the world outside of the kingdom still thinks you’re married to the prince. You could show up on someone’s doorstep and claim you ran away, that he abused you. Could live among the royals and be pampered, if you wish.”

“You don’t think they really would, do you?” Cinderella asked. “I don’t look like much of a princess anymore.” Then, more strongly, “besides, I want to be here and to help you with the children.”

The wife nodded thoughtfully. “All right, if you want to stay I can’t force you to leave.”

It was this note of cockeyed acceptance that made Cinderella feel that a family was forming in the little baker’s shoppe.

^^^

The first time they sent Jack off to the village’s school her heart leapt into her throat. The wife grabbed her hand suddenly. Squeezed it.

Cinderella blushed right up to the roots of her hair.

^^^

The ginger heart smelled deliciously of molasses, its center glowed ruby-bright with strawberry jam, leftover from the spring harvest. In spite of herself, Cinderella smiled when she lifted the treat to her lips.

It was her birthday. She thought that the wife knew this, divined it somehow with her dry-eyed knowledge of the world.

Then the flavor exploded on her tongue, the children applauded, the wife laughed - and Cinderella felt as if she were home, truly and at last.

_(There was still an ‘I wish’ hiding at the back of her tongue, half-said, half-breathed, it never emerged from her lips)._

**Author's Note:**

> This was far too much fun to write - hope you have a happy Yuletide!


End file.
